


Big Sky Country

by Lyl



Series: Immortal!Kate [2]
Category: Highlander: The Series, NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Crossover, F/M, Immortals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-22
Updated: 2010-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-10 18:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyl/pseuds/Lyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Driving across the country has its hazards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Sky Country

They were driving through Montana when it happened. A lightning quick head rush, telling them they weren't the only Immortals in the area. There was barely a pause in their conversation at the sensation, and Kate silently thanked Methos for his intensive training that kept her from whipping her head around. It was the quickest way to get challenged.

They'd stopped at a roadside diner to rest and pick up some food before continuing on to Seacouver, and it was just her luck that this would be where another of their kind would pull up. They were driving across the country because getting on a plane in DC was as good as announcing she was 'not dead' in the Washington Post. While driving was a safer way to travel to avoid being found by mortals, it didn't always work so well for avoiding Immortals.

Kate never paused in her description of her last 'vacation', while Methos remained intently focussed on her, contributing with single word answers. To the other patrons of the diner, they looked like any other couple on a long road trip.

Kate had long ago learned the art of carrying on a conversation while planning her escape – another useful lesson her teacher had drummed into her centuries ago. The position she was in made turning her head impossible; her vantage point gave her a clear view of the side entrance and the kitchens, while Methos watched the front door and the restrooms. A quick flick of his eyes let her know he had acquired the Immortal, and a handful of finger movements let her know where they were.

A careful repositioning of the metal napkin dispenser let her keep an eye on the dark haired man who was making no effort to hide the fact he was searching for someone.

A waitress came by with their meals, and Kate resigned herself to another hour of resisting the buzz in her head demanding her attention.

When it finally came time for them to leave, it was all Kate could do not to sigh in relief. They timed their exit with another couple, and then waited in the parking lot for several more minutes until a sufficient number of cars were driving off, covering their escape.

They drove slow and careful until they hit Bozeman, where they got a room at a mid-scale hotel.

Kate had forgotten how tiring it was to duck and cover around other Immortals; their kind tended to stay away from high profile places and people – such as DC and the President. It had been years since her escape and evade skills had been tested, and she was happy to note they were till in top shape. She could tell Methos was pleased as well, which meant there wouldn't be any disapproving looks or pointed comments.

At least she hadn't let her fighting skills diminish, even though the past few years had been spent mastering firearms and unarmed combat. Twice a week – if she was in DC – she went to an upscale dojo to spar with whoever was around.

The next morning Kate left Methos to his fourteen hour beauty sleep, wandering around the town as it began to wake and start the day. It had been years since she'd been able to just walk and breath, not worrying about anything other than if she should turn left or right at the next corner. It also gave her time to clear her head. She'd been Special Agent Kate Todd for longer than was good for her, because she'd started putting parts of her true self – her Immortal self – into the persona. Towards the end, she'd been more Caitlin the Immortal, than Kate the NCIS agent.

It was never good to mix up who you are with who you are pretending to be. She wasn't like Methos, or a lot of the other Immortals she'd come into contact with. She couldn't just go from one life to another, switching names like jackets. Each time she started a new life with a new name, she needed a new personality.

She also needed a purpose. Changing personalities and lives always presented her with a question: what did she want to do now? It was how she'd become everything from a bar maid to a bounty hunter to a paramedic to a Secret Service agent. She'd even been a pirate once, much to Methos' shame and horror.

Years ago it hadn't been such an important question. Even fifty years ago she could simply change names and states, yet still do the same job and live the same life. But the world had changed. Computers and the internet were making the world a smaller and smaller place, and she had to adapt accordingly.

It probably didn't help that she kept choosing jobs and lives that gave her a higher profile than most other Immortals. Though to be fair, this latest life had been the most high profile yet – Immortals generally tried to avoid being caught on camera next to the President of the United States as much as she had. NCIS had been good, because it got her out of the limelight, but still let her keep doing what she loved.

But Caitlin Todd had died, and while much of DC was mourning her loss (her obituary had been half a page and above the fold), Kate had to find a new person to be.

Since leaving DC, she'd been picking up clothes and other items as they crossed the country, but they were generic and not styled to any specific fashion. Three hundred miles outside of DC she'd picked up a short blonde wig and wide sunglasses, and she was fairly impressed with how they managed to hide her identity and allow her to blend in. But that wouldn't work forever. She looked horrid as a blonde, something she'd learned the hard way years ago.

It was as she was turning back towards the hotel that she felt it. The presence of another Immortal washed over her. Her empty hand clenched instinctively, and Kate cursed herself for that small movement that most likely gave her away. But she continued walking as if nothing had changed, keeping a close eye on her surroundings.

Crossing yet another street, Kate finally saw him, his reflection taunting her. It was the same Immortal who had been in the diner the night before, and by his intent gaze, he knew she was his target.

_Fight if you have to, but there's no shame in running. Live to fight another day._

There weren't enough people on the streets at this time of the morning for her to lose him in a crowd, but more than enough to get in the way if he started a fight in the middle of the street. Sighing in resignation, Kate quickly reviewed her walk to find somewhere large enough and quiet enough for two people to have a sword fight. The only area that came to mind was a spartan alley behind a row of retail shops that wouldn't open for another few hours.

Why was it always alleys?

Continuing on her way, Kate kept her pace slow and casual, and had to fight her instinctual need to speed up and run. Every step she took brought her closer to her designated target, leading the other Immortal to where she wanted him.

_If you have to fight, choose your battlefield, Caitlin._

Even now, centuries later, Methos' words still rang loud and clear in her head.

Five minutes later she ducked quickly into the alley, giving the other Immortal one last chance to leave her alone. Inwardly she shook her head when he turned the corner into the alley, pulling her sword from her jacket. She was inordinately pleased that they'd been able to get into her apartment in DC to grab her sword and getaway funds – though mostly for the sword. She didn't relish going into a challenge with a new weapon she hadn't broken in yet. Her rapier was an old friend, the weigh perfectly balanced to her body and style of fighting. It had cost her plenty of coin when she first ordered it three centuries ago, but it was still the best money she'd ever spent.

“Time to die,” he announce, drawing his own sword, and Kate had to restrain the urge to roll her eyes. At least it was better than 'there can be only one' and 'come to daddy, little girl'.

“Try it,” she said, taunting him slightly as she fell back into a relaxed, loose pose. So far her impression was that he was a bully, as well as a head hunter. Neither of which endeared him to her.

“Your teacher's not around to save you, little girl,” he growled at her. Kate felt the urge to laugh, because once you'd been growled at by Gibbs, everything paled in comparison.

“What makes you think he's my teacher? Why couldn't I be his teacher?” she asked, easily stepping out of the way as he slashed forward.

“What makes you automatically assume that the man has to be the mentor while the female is the student?” she continued to ask, returning and blocking his blows. He seemed to be of the 'hit them hard enough and they'll fall' mentality, and while that might work for some, it would be his downfall. She'd taken on far too many like him, who saw a woman and thought 'easy mark'.

“Women are weak,” he said, swinging at her again with no style or strategy outside of brute strength. Ducking under the blow, she carved a nice line across his chest, satisfied when he cried out in pain or surprise; she couldn't care which.

“Only in upper body strength, jackass,” she said, kicking his back and sending him sprawling.

He was quicker than she gave him credit for, managing to pop back up again. He approached her more cautiously after that, trying to wear her down with hacking blows and brute strength while keeping sufficient distance from any more kicks. He got a strike on her upper arm, slicing the muscle straight to the bone, rendering that arm useless until it healed. Without losing a beat, she switched to her uninjured arm and continued to fight.

He racked up a few more injuries, hissing every time she slipped past his shoddy defence to slice him. A long cut along her stomach convinced her she needed to end it quickly before she bled out. Moving in a tad too close, Kate was unsurprised when he reached over and grabbed her sword arm, pulling her in closer.

“You're mine, bitch,” he spat at her, his sword moving up for the final blow.

Kate just smiled the smile she used when she one-upped Tony, and slipped her knife into his heart.

“Don't call me 'bitch',” she sneered as he fell to his knees, letting go of her wrist.

Taking a step back, she raised her sword and took his head. She had a minute to hope that no one was nearby to hear to coming noise, then the first strike of lightning hit her and she had other things to worry about.

It had been years since she'd taken her last head, and the sensation of the Quickening had become a vague sort of sense memory. Each strike of light was white hot and ice cold, sending her to her knees with the force of the energy throwing itself at her body. Memories and names and facts bombarded her mind, flying by too fast for her to catch or analyze, burrowing down in her soul for safe keeping.

The Quickening died down after an eternity, and it took Kate several minutes to calm her breathing enough to struggle to her feet. Her legs were shaky and weak, a stark contrast to the pulsing energy flowing through her veins to some unknown rhythm.

Blinking a few times to clear her vision of blind spots, she looked at the body of the still unnamed Immortal and realized she had a body to dispose of.

A quick look around showed she had limited options and even less time, so she ended up heaving the heavy body into the nearest dumpster, and the head into the neighbouring bin.

Kate rested long enough to make sure her jacket covered all the bloodstains, and that she could actually make it back to the hotel on her own. The Quickening was still pulsing in her bloodstream, a headier drug than even adrenaline.

She made it back quickly, managing to avoid the slowly building foot traffic on the streets. Letting herself into the room as noisily as possible, she wasn't even remotely surprised to see a half-naked Methos, glaring from the bed and holding a gun on her.

“Why don't you just break the door down next time? It would be quieter,” he snarked at her, lowering the gun. Then he seemed to pause, his eyes raking up and down her body. “What happened?”

“Challenge,” she said, clenching her teeth and pressing her back further into the door, trying to relieve the ache of tensing muscles.

“The body?” he asked. Kate noticed that he didn't even bother to ask if she'd killed him, or simply injured him and run away. He knew her too well for that.

“Taken care of.”

“That just leaves you,” he said carefully, putting the gun on the bedside table.

Kate didn't answer, pushing herself harder against the door. The small exertion of her muscles relieved some of the tension, but not enough. Not nearly enough. And without access to some place she could have a no-holds-barred fight with no questions asked, it was only going to get worse.

There were very few ways to release the energy of a Quickening, and they all revolved around strenuous physical exertion.

Methos knew this as well as she did, and had come to the same answer she had.

He cocked an eyebrow and spread his arms, a small smirk twitching his lips.

Kate took that as the invitation it was and leapt across the room.

He was wearing a full on smirk by the time she tackled him to the bed.

Bastard.

END


End file.
